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by mneiai



Series: Season 8 Is A Mess And I'm Trying To Deal [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Slight spoilers for 8x04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 00:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18728134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mneiai/pseuds/mneiai
Summary: At the end of it all, Jon goes home





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write something with these two for a long time and the last few times we've gotten to see them interact on the show has been awesome.
> 
> Also fuck Ghost not even getting a pat.

The sight of Castle Black, in disrepair and overcrowded with free folk, made Jon's eyes blur with tears. He urged his horse on, faster, harder. Shouting back to the guard his name.

A white shape broke through the slightest opening once they started moving the gate and Jon let out a relieved laugh, all but jumping from the horse just before it shied away. Ghost knocked him off his feet into a snow bank and he still could only laugh, clutching at his friend as Ghost did his best to lick every exposed inch of Jon's face.

"It took you long enough!" Strong hands reached between them and managed to get Jon back on his feet just before Tormund pulled him into a hug that forced the air from Jon's lungs.

"I know," he gasped, "I know!"

He should have never gone South. Tormund had been right, he had too much wildling in him, now. And even before he should have realized the game of thrones would bring him nothing but pain, he was his parents' son, after all, and all three of them had died to it in some way.

"I think you actually managed to get smaller!" 

Tormund was practically carrying him through to the courtyard, a nearby youth grabbing his horse and bringing it with them. People lined up to greet him, to welcome him back. There was none of the standoffishness of the South, where he was a filthy Northerner, none of the hostility of the Northern kingdom, where he was a bastard and worse yet, dragonspawn. The Free Folk didn't care about his names, his parentage, his claims. They knew what sort of person he was and they respected him for that.

"You made it in good time, a storm's on the horizon!" Tormund continued dragging him along, towards one of the rooms. "Guess we'll have to keep each other warm tonight, eh?"

Jon flushed, but managed a half-smirk, still not quite able to get the joy from his expression. "You think I came back to be *your* bedwarmer, Giantsbane?"

"Now, now, Snow, you can pretend all you like, but everyone knows I stole your heart!"

"I thought you had to steal more than that for it to be official?"

Tormund cocked an eyebrow at him, surprised. "Yeah? You want me to make an honest pretty boy out of you?"

Laughing again, Jon shook his head. "Maybe, eventually. Right now I could just really use some...normalcy."

"Ha! I knew you were more one of us than not! Don't you worry, King Crow, I'm not going to let anyone else steal you before I get the chance."

Jon ducked his head. "You act like I'm easy to steal."

"Not easy, Jon Snow, never that!" 

Tormund laughed, pushing him into what was clearly his own room, waiting for Ghost to make it through before closing the door like it had already become a habit.

For once, Jon thinks he may have made the right choice.


End file.
